


below the line where you belong

by Nununununu



Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Attraction, Blow Jobs, Hand Jobs, M/M, Masturbation, Mutual Pining, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Reunions, Sexual Fantasy, Touch-Starved
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-02
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-15 01:00:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29800539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nununununu/pseuds/Nununununu
Summary: He shouldn’t be doing this. He shouldn’t. Knowing he’s going to do it regardless.
Relationships: Din Djarin/Cobb Vanth
Comments: 11
Kudos: 92





	below the line where you belong

**Author's Note:**

> _I need my fill, where's the next thrill_   
>  _It's right there in your fingertips_
> 
> Kim Wilde randomly started playing and this was the result XD Part of a 'cape' misadventures fic I originally planned to write a while ago (the end result having taken a different turn), inspired by chat a while back on the server - a gift fic for the lovely folk there <3

He shouldn’t be doing this. He _shouldn’t_. Knowing he’s going to do it regardless. Din hits the command for autopilot almost before the ship’s cleared atmosphere, falling heavily back in the pilot’s seat, already fumbling for the zipper to his pants. _Shit_ but he’s hard, feels like he’s been heading this way for ages, that he’d _been_ this way for ages, trapped hot and leaking and _painful_ behind the beskar cup.

Better than not having it, even if it doesn’t feel like it; state he’s in would have been far too obvious else. Fighting together alongside Vanth had been enough – just the way they worked together, _moved_ together, two years after that first time and just as seamless all over again, even with the other man in different armour, lesser armour than the previous set but _damn_ did it suit him, _damn_ did he look good in it anyway and _damn_ but Din had never known anyone to just slot in so well together with him. Like they almost knew what each other was going to do, like they were almost dancing, like they were damn fucking well meant to do this together, meant to be –

“Fuck,” Wriggling the cup out from his pants feels good, but not nearly as good as tugging his clothes down just enough to catch a gloved hand around his cock, straining towards his trembling belly the moment it’s freed, leaping against the touch of his fingers, precome leaking onto the leather before he’s even started. Bracing a foot up near the controls in front of him – better not kick anything when he comes – and fuck but it’s going to be a good one, he can feel it building in his balls already. Should have stopped to grab the lube when he near staggered on board, should have got his glove off, but no – Vanth had been wearing gloves, hadn’t he, had clapped his hand onto Din’s shoulder after the battle with a _“Be seeing you again a little sooner this time round, partner?”_ and Din had nodded, struck dumb but unable to deny the other man anything he might ask of him.

If Vanth had asked him to stay –

If Vanth had reached out any further after the battle as Din had wanted him to, had thought he might, had wished he would – as he’d thought for a moment that _Vanth_ wanted to, seeing the hot little look the other man had awarded him before raising his hands and backing off as if valuing Din’s space –

If Din had taken his helmet off like he’d been tempted to, like he does now –

Pushing it up halfway to let out a shaking breath, shoving his shoulders back against the seat as he shoves his hips up harder, thrusting up into his tightening hand. Grunting at the pleasure of it as he imagines Vanth here with him, imagines the other man reaching around from behind him, leaning over the back of the chair to take hold of Din’s cock, to take over from him with a rhythm Din can’t resist in the slightest, shuddering with the feel of it, flinging an arm up to hook it over the back of the other man’s neck, drawing Vanth in even closer, craning upwards to drag his mouth over the crook of Vanth’s jaw, his neck, any part of him Din can reach. Seeing their reflections in the transparisteel, watching Vanth bring him off, Vanth crooning encouragement in Din’s ear, maybe a little praise.

Doing the same in return to Vanth after or dropping down to kneel on the deck with legs made shaky from orgasm, getting Vanth sprawling naked in the pilot’s seat as Din leans in between the other man’s knees to suck down Vanth’s cock.

Vanth’s hands in his hair, fingers shaking just as much as Din’s entire body is shaking now, accidentally sending the controls into diving them back down towards the planet as Vanth’s other hand flails out when Din swallows around him, choking on his cock when he’s too eager, pushing down on it until he feels the head hit the back of his throat. Greedy for it, greedy for Vanth, greedy for all he can get of the other man. Greedy to _feel_ , Din’s hands bare and so hungry, running them over the other man’s belly, feeling the way Vanth’s thighs tremble and tense, stroking his fingers down under Vanth’s tightening balls. Touching – just touching and feeling him –

Din gasping now and moaning with each breath in a way that’s quite unlike his usual constrained, restrained wanking, tumbling headlong over the edge as his cock jerks in his still moving fist, more come than he expects splurting out onto his pants and his boots and the monitors in front of him, _shit_ – scrabbling all too late for tissues that aren’t where he vaguely remembers leaving some, resorting to using a corner of his cape and half-grimacing half-sniggering at the leftover smears – _fuck_.

Collapsing boneless back in the pilot’s seat after, clumsy from orgasm, sweat dampening his hair and smile tugging at his cheeks. Smiling – he’d smiled so much right from the moment he’d seen the other man again, hadn’t he, smiled and felt the way his heart pitter-pattered, and squeezed Vanth’s hand when they shook. Felt Vanth hold on that bit too long again too, just like before, the other man smiling right back at Din.

_“Sure you’ve got to head off so fast again, friend?”_

Din had been forced to make his excuses, knowing he’d reveal himself else. Knowing he’d let on how het up he was, how much that beskar cup was punishing his urgently demanding cock; how much he ached to tug on Vanth’s hand and bring him stepping in close to Din.

A moment of panic now on realising there’s a light flashing on the comm – if he’d somehow knocked it while he was distracted; if he’d somehow _turned it on_ –

It’s off, thank fuck. But the incoming request to speak continues. Din doesn’t need to check; he _knows_ who it is. Knows he’ll sound hoarse with the aftermath of his orgasm if he answers before at least having a drink and making an effort at better cleaning up. His ears burning at the thought of speaking to Vanth with the mess he’s made of himself still evident, breathing still that much faster than it should be. Din’s softening cock still exposed, his pants still tugged down.

If he doesn’t answer now, he can call back as soon as he’s more presentable. But what if he misses him? What if Vanth takes it as a no? Whatever he’s planning on asking Din, that’s definitely not the answer Din wants to give him.

Biting his lip, Din thumbs at the button on the side of the comm, caught by guilty temptation all over again even as he tells himself the right thing to do. Wondering if Vanth were to work out just what Din’s been up to – oh fuck and _why_ – just how the other man might respond.


End file.
